


Homeward Bound but without the Animals (for AshLyn32)

by PoboboProbably



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 15:32:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11443809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoboboProbably/pseuds/PoboboProbably
Summary: In which Queen Ashleigh Cousland Theirin, finally cured of the taint, makes her way home to Denerim from Par Vollen. Traveling through Antiva and the Free Marches, she is accompanied by an Antivan trader headed to Jader for business. The last leg of a four year journey, the story follows Ashleigh, now exhausted and homesick, as she journeys into Ferelden.





	Homeward Bound but without the Animals (for AshLyn32)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the /r/DragonAge art/fic exchange.

# Homeward Bound but without the Animals

### LATE 9:43 DRAGON – SOUTHERN ANTIVA

“This is always the worst part for me. Only a few more miles until we cross the border,” the Antivan said. Despite his somber thoughts, he was actually quite cheerful. Or so it seemed, anyway. Ashleigh hadn’t really given the man enough attention to decide whether he was simply a good actor. In any event, he took great care to make it known that leaving his home country saddened him greatly.

“But I hope you don’t misunderstand me; I do love to travel. I adore it, in fact! So many fascinating places to see, and you meet so many interesting people in my line of work. But leaving Antiva always pains me,” he continued. Thankfully, Federico was not the type of person who needs an active partner in conversation, so Ashleigh’s relative disinterest didn’t cause any offense. Unfortunately, this also meant that he never stopped talking.

“What line of work is that?” she asked him, feigning interest and getting him to repeat himself to buy herself a few minutes of introspection. Unlike Federico, she couldn’t be happier to be leaving Antiva. After spending so much time in Par Vollen, being closer to home was a more than welcome luxury, and fairly soon only the Waking Sea would part her from Ferelden, from King and country. She’d been away from Ferelden for over a year now, but now that the end of her travels seemed near, she couldn’t help but imagine the reunion that awaited her. She saw the gates of Denerim open before her. She saw the open market, the Arl’s estate. She saw Fort Drakon towering in the distance. And she saw Alistair, waiting to greet her with arms outstretched and mouth agape. Waiting was terrible. Meanwhile, Federico complained about having to take another month-long excursion from home for trade negotiations. If only curing the taint had been so quick and easy. 

“Ah, but worse than that, worse than missing the fields and the vineyards and the sea, is my family. I ache when I am far from them. My darling wife, Catalina, and our children. Mia, she’s only four, and Lorenzo is just five years her senior but already thinks himself a man. Ah, but that is enough about me. Did you leave anyone behind in, eh… where is it you’re from again?”

Federico, seemingly having exhausted himself on the topic of his work, looked expectantly at Ashleigh, hoping for some give and take to ease the flow of banter. It occurred to her that, despite having been on the road with him for two days now, she’d barely told him anything of herself, and he clearly didn’t recognize her as the Hero of Ferelden. Perhaps she’d gotten lost in the refreshing anonymity his ignorance provided. After all, finding yourself sharing the road with a perfect stranger isn’t easy when you’re internationally famous for stopping a blight. Ashleigh fiddled with what was left of a rose she’d picked earlier and had absentmindedly left in her pocket. Thinking of Alistair and of the future, she felt her face fall into a worried sadness.

“No one important,” she told him.

“Ah, a rogue then! You live your life following your own path, don’t you? Dashing from place to place, never staying long, and I can tell from your elaborate armor that you must be a fearless warrior!” He paused, stopped in his tracks with a finger on his chin and a speculative look on his face. “Either that, or you’re simply posing as such so no one tries anything… h-hey, hold on a minute!” he called, jogging to catch up with Ashleigh, who hadn’t stopped moving to wait for him. “No, really, that cannot be it. You have the look of someone who misses a loved one. There must be someone waiting for you back in the Marches, no? That would explain your quickened pace. Or is it Ferelden? You must be headed to Amaranthine, or Denerim!”

“Denerim. Have you been there before?”

“Oh, yes. Many times. Trade has always been strong in Denerim, even after the blight! Nasty business, those blights. But I’m sure you know that better than I do, being a Fereldan fighter and all. Let me guess: you fought alongside the fabled Hero of Ferelden as she held back the last waves of darkspawn at Fort Drakon! And from what I’ve heard of her beauty, you could be her sister!”

For the first time since their meeting, Ashleigh relented a smile. Federico wasn’t the most graceful man, but he was definitely entertaining company. Plus, being called beautiful is always nice. Perhaps it was just the rose in her pocket, but his compliment made her think of Alistair’s initial advances. They were both so clumsy then, stumbling around in the darkness, trying to figure that whole ‘love’ thing out for themselves. She wondered if curing the taint would be worth it. If she and Alistair would have a Mia and Lorenzo of their own, or if the damage done to their blighted bodies was irreparable. 

“Not quite,” she answered, still enjoying her time as just another traveler. “I killed my share of darkspawn, though, so you’d better believe this armor isn’t just for show.”

Federico laughed, glad to have made his companion smile for once. “Well, worry not, then! I would prefer not to join the legions of darkspawn you helped to put down. Ah, I am very glad the blight did not spread to Antiva. I am no fighter, and neither is Catalina. Lorenzo fancies himself quite the fencer, but he can still barely pick up a sword. Oh, I worry for them when I am gone. Not that I would be much help, of course, but I would hate for something to happen while I was not there to defend them. I’m sure a warrior like yourself feels much the same, darkspawn or not. But still. I wouldn’t give up the travels for anything. So few people get to see as much of Thedas as I have, you know.”

“What’s been your favorite place so far?” Ashleigh inquired, immediately reminding herself of home. “Other than Antiva, I mean.”

“Other than _Antiva_?” Federico asked, feigning bewilderment. “Is such a thing possible? Nowhere in Thedas is as beautiful as my dear Rialto. Ah, but I will respect the bounds of your question. Let’s see… no, not there. Oh, definitely not there! My, this is hard, but, aha! Must be Halamshiral! I only went there once, you see, for an astonishingly lucrative deal, but it was by far the most jaw dropping of any location I visited. Any location outside of Antiva, that is. You should really see Antiva City at night, and Rialto’s sunrises are marvelous, too. Oh, but there I go again, rambling on about Antiva. What do you like most about your Ferelden, my mysterious friend?”

Federico was certainly a long-winded man, Ashleigh thought, but even he can’t talk forever. Though she much preferred to keep herself distant, her travels had left her too homesick to think of anything but returning to Denerim and too exhausted to come up with a lie. 

“Denerim. I can’t wait to be back. It’s been so long since I’ve held Al…” Ashleigh cleared her throat, thinking quickly so as not to trip herself up. “Albert in my arms. I miss him.”

“Ah, so there is someone waiting for you then! I knew it! Is he your husband? Your lover? Or perhaps a kept man, eh?”

“Albert is my mabari, actually. Yes, my dear mabari. I miss him terribly.”

“Ah, yes, your _mabari_. Of course. You Fereldans and your dogs. Marvelous beasts, aren’t they?” Federico continued, clearly humoring Ashleigh’s failed deception. “We don’t have anything like mabari in Antiva. No, we mostly are known for our wine. I do love a good Antivan red. Mmmm, an Antivan red, paired deliciously with a nug steak, just like Catalina makes. Oh, but those are dangerous thoughts. It is far too early for me to get homesick. We have not even crossed into the Free Marches yet! Though we soon will, I am sure.”

Soon indeed. The rolling fields of Antiva had long since given way to the sparse woodlands that dotted the northern reaches of the Free Marches, and before long, the road was flanked by dense thickets on either side. Though not quite as lush as Par Vollen or as werewolf-infested as the Brecilian Forest, the sight still reminded her of both.

### HOURS LATER – NORTHERN FREE MARCHES

“Well, here we are. Feel like a Marcher yet?” Ashleigh asked.

“I don’t think I could ever feel like a Marcher. Not after that business in Kirkwall. And definitely not with the Inquisitor being a mage from Ostwick. Things here are rather sour for my tastes.”

“You think the Inquisitor being a Marcher is a sour thing?” she challenged, puzzled.

“Well, not so much the Inquisitor being a Marcher, really. More like… more like demons falling out of the sky is not something every nation would be prepared to face. But leave it to a Marcher to fix the problem. Marchers love demons!”

“I wouldn’t call it a love, but they do seem to get more than their fair share of them, it’s true. The Marches always get into more trouble with the Fade than anywhere else.” 

Finally having left Antiva, Ashleigh was starting to count down the miles until she would reach the Waking Sea. Denerim was still several days away, but she’d entered one of the last legs of her journey there. The same excitement held true for Federico, though in his case, Ashleigh thought, it was excitement at the prospect of leaving the Marches rather than of arriving in Ferelden. Crossing borders always held a certain moment, in any case, and crossing into the Marches from Antiva was no exception. She and Federico had both stepped into their next chapters, ready to greet whatever Thedas sent them.

In this particular instance, it was a knife.

Not twenty minutes after crossing the border, the rustle of a bush on the side of the road betrayed an attacker’s position and preceded a desperate toss. The blade, having been sloppily aimed, whirred only inches away from Ashleigh’s face, slicing a few stray hairs in half before embedding itself in the knotted trunk of a nearby tree.

“Goodness!” shouted Federico while Ashleigh wordlessly drew her sword and raised her shield.

“Get behind me!” she barked, eyes trained carefully on the offending bush. Federico had no trouble following the order, now peering anxiously from behind her shield. Despite her attention being focused on the bush in front of her, the bright sheen of Starfang’s blade betrayed the position of an accomplice to the would be assassin. The man stirring in the branches ten feet above her head was reflected on the blade just before he pounced. Her reflexes honed by many years of combat, Ashleigh instantly swung the flat of her shield in an arc above her head, deflecting the incoming assassin and slamming him hard into the ground. She followed up with a quick thrust, ensuring the kill before refocusing her attention on the man in the bush. Now more desperate than before, he ran out from his cover, charging with a yell that sounded more terrified than threatening. Ashleigh read his movements easily, and deftly maneuvered Starfang into his gut without even having to parry his dagger strike. As quickly as it had begun, the scuffle was ended. 

“Not this again,” Ashleigh sighed, shouldering her shield and procuring a rag with which to clean her blade from another of her pockets. She then began the quiet task of wiping blood off of her weapon, and Federico broke the silence moments later, after relieving the tree trunk of the blade in its side.

“We should all count ourselves lucky that this knife did not find its target,” he said flatly.

“Oh?”

“Well,” he explained, “losing its queen is rarely beneficial for a country, especially one with Ferelden’s history. So, it is good that he missed, don’t you think?”

“Hang on a minute. You know who I am?” Ashleigh asked incredulously.

“Even among traders, purple armor and a glowing sword is bound to raise eyebrows, no? You are very recognizable, my Lady.”

Though the deception took a moment to fully set in, it did make sense. In all her travels, it occurred to her, she had not in fact encountered another individual wearing purple dragon scales and carrying a glowing sword. Add on the black hair and you’ve got a dead ringer for Queen Theirin of Ferelden. Federico’s earlier comment about pushing back against darkspawn at the fort now made perfect sense: he’d known all along. Though unexpected, she supposed his feigned ignorance was not worth starting a fight over, and instead shook her head, chuckling at her own gullibility.

Federico cleared his throat. “Eh, who exactly were those two, anyway, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Antivan Crows,” Ashleigh responded.

“Really? That is surprising. Such a shoddy performance is not exactly in line with their reputation.”

“Very recent Antivan Crows. Must be that they no longer want to risk sending their more skilled agents after me.” Ashleigh let out another sigh, this one more labored than the first. “I wonder what it is this time. Someone in Tevinter want me out of the way? Or perhaps the First Warden’s simply had enough of my insubordination,” she joked.

“Well, whatever the case may be, I am glad to have you by my side. That was quite the display, you know!” he assured himself. Ashleigh took the admiration in stride; she was used to it by now.

“Glad to be of service.”

“Then again, I suppose that without you here, the Crows would not have accosted me at all. Perhaps you are a bad luck charm, haha!” Federico was evidently back to his normal self. “Oh, just wait until Catalina hears about this one! My safest and most imperiled business trips are actually the same one! Ah, she will be thrilled to hear it. Thrilled, or horrified. Either one works for me.”

Ashleigh pitied Catalina for her choice of husband for a few moments before putting away the bloody rag and getting back to her feet. Small diversions like this one would not keep Alistair waiting any longer than he needed to, she thought. “Back to it then, Federico. Let’s not keep Amaranthine and Denerim waiting.”

### DAYS LATER – THE FREE MARCHES

“Maybe we should stop soon, no?” Federico suggested. The light was beginning to fade, and the pair had not stopped walking since their brief lunch earlier that day. Their run in with the Crows now a few days past, they’d already made considerable progress through the Free Marches, having passed Ansburg and entered the vicinity of Markham, though they planned to move around both cities, as pit stops there would only slow them down. And slowing down was the last thing on Ashleigh’s mind.

“The sun isn’t down yet. We keep moving.”

“I understand your impatience. Really, I do, but I have been on the road a long time, and traveling at night? It is not often a good idea,” Federico pressed on. “Bad things tend to happen at night.”

“That couldn’t possibly be a threat, could it?” Ashleigh asked him, half joking.

“Maker, no! I would not dream of it, Lady Theirin!” he answered, indignant. “Perhaps you have yet to trust me. This I also understand. Your travels must have been… worrisome.”

“If you’re so understanding, Federico, then we’ll keep moving. I don’t plan on stopping until the sun is down.”

“Which will be very soon, yes? Better to use the remaining light to set up camp, I think.”

“You’re free to stop if you want.”

“What, and lose my bodyguard? Ha! I would rather brave the night…”

Ashleigh and Federico continued on their path for some minutes more, following the road for as long as it could guide them, but the light was fading fast. Soon enough only the light of Starfang would be able to inform them as to their surroundings. But Ashleigh refused to rest. They’d entered the northern foothills of the Vimmark Mountains, a sure sign that the coast would greet them within two days’ walk, and Ashleigh was eager to see if she could turn that into one. The small hills that dotted their path the prior day were now sheer cliff sides, the beginnings of mountains, and the road became a meandering trail through them all. Upon turning the corner of one such bend, Ashleigh and Federico were confronted by a strange sight: a large stone archway, seemingly part of a ruined bridge, spanned the length of the gap between the cliffs on either side of the path. About fifteen feet high at its apex and thirty feet across, it was certainly an unusual feature on an otherwise deserted highland. Puzzled by its appearance though she was, Ashleigh kept her pace. Federico did not follow suit. Instead, his pace slowed, and he seemed to grow increasingly anxious as Ashleigh approached it.

“Eh, maybe you should consider slowing down a bit, Queen?” he asked. “This could easily be a trap. For all you know, the Crows sent more men after you.”

“Let them ambush me, then, if they’re here. They stood no chance before,” she answered confidently.

“I thought those two from before were new recruits? Is that not what you called them? What if these are more experienced? It could not hurt to be cautious, you know.”

“Arriving in Denerim any later than I need to would be far worse than anything the Crows could throw at me.”

“If you say so,” Federico relented, though his anxiety remained apparent.

Federico’s fears were proven to be quite warranted as he and Ashleigh approached the archway. When they were just a few paces from stepping underneath the arch, a lone Crow fell out of the sky and landed directly opposite them on the other side of the tunnel. Federico shook his head as if to say “I told you so” while Ashleigh drew her sword, unimpressed. Several seconds of silence followed which were broken by the sound of extra footsteps behind them, and later by the voice of the man across from them. 

“The Antivan Crows send their regards, Queen Theirin,” he said with a bow. “You made short work of our previous two assassins, it seems. Do not think you will be able to repeat the act.”

“Just because it’s three on one this time? Last time wasn’t even a fight. You expect me to be impressed?”

“I expect you to show some respect, my Lady,” he answered, “as I have shown you respect.”

“Perhaps you should listen to him,” Federico said, speaking in an uncharacteristically low tone of voice. “Crows do not give away their position like that unless they are very skilled.”

“I have yet to meet a Crow who’s actually as tough as he thinks he is,” she told Federico. Addressing the assassin again, she asked, “Who sent you after me this time?”

“They prefer to remain anonymous. But let’s just say that some citizens of Ferelden are still having trouble accepting Queen Anora’s loss of the throne, and they thought your prolonged absence to be quite the opportunity,” he answered.

“And how much money did they pay you to die?”

“My, my, but that is a bold question,” he said, raising an arm as if to wave away the inquiry. Ashleigh saw right through the feint, pushing Federico to the ground and dodging left as the assassin flung a dagger in her direction with his other hand. Before he could make another move, she countered with her own knife throw, impaling her attacker’s abdomen and turning to face his backup. The two remaining Crows steadied themselves for the coming fight, meanwhile Federico struggled to regain his footing. As Ashleigh closed the gap between herself and the assassins, a gasp from Federico alerted one of them to his presence. 

“Hey, hang on, isn’t that Fe- _hurkk!_ ”

His question was cut off by the throwing knife that was now protruding from his throat. Ashleigh whipped around just in time to see Federico reel his outstretched arm quickly back near his chest. Every inch of him had the appearance of having made an enormous mistake. Ashleigh made short work of her last remaining adversary, once again disappointed by the Crows’ lack of threat, before immediately focusing her attention on Federico.

“Not much of a fighter?” she asked, gritting her teeth.

“Alright, so maybe I am something of a fighter after all?”

“He _recognized_ you!” Ashleigh growled, bringing Starfang to bear on Federico’s neck.

“Aaand, maybe I am also an Antivan Crow? But I assure you, I am not out for your blood. This I promise!”

“Like I’d trust the word of a Crow? I should kill you right here. What else have you lied about? Is your family even real?” she demanded.

“Eh, yes! They are quite real, and they would be very disappointed to hear of my grisly murder at the hands of a Fereldan queen. I beg you to listen!”

“You’re still a Crow. You’ve been after me for years, and you want mercy?”

“You trust Zevran, don’t you? He is a friend,” he said, calmer now that he had Ashleigh’s attention. “He asked me to keep an eye out for you, now that you’ve succeeded in curing the taint. I could not allow such precious cargo to fall into the wrong hands or be destroyed. And, as I said, Zevran is a friend. I am here as a favor to him and to Ferelden. And to be perfectly honest with you, my relationship with the Crows was growing rather tenuous. They would have tried to off me sooner or later, so I figured I might as well jump ship, no? Zev seems to have done quite well for himself on the outside.”

“So what? You had me fooled this entire time? You’re still a liar! Are you even headed to Jader, as you said?” Ashleigh pressed, still unwilling to give in fully. True enough, Federico possessed knowledge that would be difficult to come by without his story being true.

“I travel rather light for a trader, don’t you think? My charge was to see you safely to Ferelden. Where I went afterwards is my business, and considering my departure from the guild, something I would rather prefer to keep a secret. You understand, of course.”

“I understand nothing. I still can’t trust you.”

“Believe me, my Lady, if I wanted to kill you I would have done it a long time ago. It would have been just like Queen Madrigal,” he said, his usual cheeriness now replaced with a morbid casualness. “But no. Here you are, still alive, still with the cure in hand, and still accompanied by the runaway Crow who has had your back for over a week now. Why continue with the suspicions?”

After some thought, Ashleigh lowered her blade and allowed Federico to walk free again. Though she did not opt to kill him, whatever camaraderie they were beginning to share was immediately set back to square one. Wordlessly, they continued on the path for a short while before setting camp.

### DAYS LATER – NORTHERN FERELDEN

“We have been over this, Lady Theirin,” Federico sighed. “I do not work for the Crows any longer.”

“The Crows don’t seem to think so, judging by that friend of yours we killed last week,” Ashleigh retorted, still unsatisfied with Federico’s justifications for his deception.

“Antivan Crows do not generally accept letters of resignation. For most, leaving is suicide. But I am not most, and neither is Zevran. I would have thought you to be understanding of this truth.”

Following their last encounter with the Crows who’d been sent after Ashleigh, the pair made their way to Ostwick, where they hired a boatman to ferry them across the Waking Sea and into Ferelden. They landed just outside of Amaranthine, though Ashleigh chose not to visit the city in favor of getting to the Imperial Highway as soon as possible. Several hours of silent walking followed their landing, throughout which Ashleigh made plans to part company with the former Crow.

“Ah, I can see the highway from here! We’ll be in Denerim in no time!” Federico cried, having taken a brief detour to gain his bearings. Ashleigh offered no response. “You’re almost home, my Lady. You must be excited!”

“I am,” she said.

“What I wouldn’t give to be at Catalina’s side right now! Ah, but that is far too dangerous for her, and for the children. I did not even tell the Crows about them! I will have to make sure they are safe before the Crows find out I have defected.”

“I see.”

“That is partly why I agreed to help you and Zev, actually. It will be difficult to leave Antiva, but I need to ensure my family’s safety. Perhaps a new start in Ferelden will do us all some good, no?” he asked, though his expectation of a significant response from Ashleigh was fairly nonexistent.

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Federico sighed. “What is it with you? You have barely spoken a word since we crossed the mountains. I am concerned. Are you worried about Alistair and yourself taking the cure?”

“My worries are far more immediate, Federico.” She spoke his name pointedly.

“Ah. I see. I thought I had made it rather clear that I am no longer an Antivan Crow. Is that really what this is all about?” he asked.

“That is precisely what this is all about.”

“You don’t mean to suggest that you would prefer I leave, do you?”

“I don’t need assassins following me around, former or otherwise. Whether you’re still a Crow or not is none of my concern, but I do believe that you’re not out for my blood. And you stopped being useful to me the moment you gave up that information,” Ashleigh said. “Now go.”

“Ah, but that is where you are wrong. I may no longer be working with the Crows, but I know when the current contract on your life was acquired, and I know how many assassins have been sent after you. I will ensure you reach Denerim safely, as promised,” Federico countered. Though still upbeat, impatience was beginning to show in his eyes.

“We’re here. In Ferelden. You are done. Leave.”

“Surely you must see the value of keeping me arou—Oh?” Ashleigh, refusing to budge, had unsheathed Starfang and pointed it directly at his heart. He briefly looked down at the blade, unimpressed, before meeting Ashleigh’s gaze. “I grow weary of your theatrics, Queen Theirin.”

“Good. All the more reason for you to leave.”

“Fine, then. Any Crows you encounter on your way to Denerim and beyond are yours to deal with. I will inform Zevran that my task is done. Perhaps he will deliver the thanks you are too stubborn to,” he said, turning away from the blade and stepping in the opposite direction.

“Stubbornness is not my motive,” Ashleigh told him.

“Blindness, then. You will not see me again.”

Ashleigh watched as Federico walked back toward Amaranthine for some time before finally lowering Starfang. As his figure shrank into the distance, she turned and began walking the last few hundred yards to the highway. Upon reaching it, she turned back around, making sure Federico had not followed. When she was satisfied that his absence was genuine, she directed her gaze to the east, looking out as far as the highway would let her to where she knew Denerim was lying in wait. She thought of Federico’s final words to her. He’d fairly astutely guessed at her worries about the cure. Though she’d taken it herself and survived, not everyone who made the attempt could say the same. There was no telling if Alistair would make it or not. For all she knew, delivering the cure to him could be a death sentence. Several shaky breaths fled from her lungs as she imagined the worst.

But there was no going back.

She reached into her pocket again, feeling for the rose. After so many days of travel it was dry and brittle. Rolling the thinned remains of the stem between her thumb and forefinger, she thought again of the future. Of children. Once a thought so divorced from reality, they’d become a very real and immediate possibility for her and Alistair. Little Mias and Lorenzos cheerfully running around Denerim’s palace. However risky it may be to obtain, that was a future worth fighting for. A future she’d worked four years to secure for herself. And now, within days of its acquisition, the nerves were strongest.

Ashleigh sighed deeply, pulling out the rose and grinding its dry petals in her fingers before watching them float away in the breeze.

“I’m almost home, Alistair.”


End file.
